Brendan Grace: completely and unashamedly Irish

Friday, May 28, 2010

Brendan Grace: completely and unashamedly Irish

Brendan Grace is an Irish comedian and singer. He played the part of Murphy in the 1995 movie Moondance, and in 1996 he appeared in the Irish TV sitcom Father Ted as Father Fintan Stack. Born in the heart of Dublin in 1952, Brendan was raised in the working class Liberties neighbourhood. His father Seamus worked as a bartender and at other odd jobs to keep the family going. However, this proved to be not enough and Brendan was forced to leave school at 15 to start earning for his family. Brendan has worked with such legends as Frank Sinatra, Sammy Davis, Jr. and Liza Minnelli. His work for children’s charities has won him many accolades.

Last night I was lucky enough to attend one of his now rare US concerts. Just as we were about to leave for the show, I said to my wife: "you know I think I want to give Brendan a copy of my book, "Driving Straight on Crooked Lines.." So I did. Chatting with him before the show, I showed Brendan the following excerpt:

"Brian Stenson, one of my Legionary class-mates from Dublin was based in Salamanca. He and I always had great fun; he’d been based at another school in Mexico when I was at the Irish Institute and we shared a similar sense of humor.

One time, when we’d caught up on all our news, he said to me, “There is something you have to hear, you’ll get a great kick out of it.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.
“I have a Brendan Grace tape!”
Brendan Grace was an Irish comedian whom we both enjoyed. The problem was, finding a way to listen to this clandestine possession within the confines of the juniorate.
“There has to be a tape recorder somewhere,” I said.
“Not a chance,” replied Brian.
I visited Fr. Arumi, the rector. “Father, I need to take the bus out for a run, otherwise the battery may die. It’s been parked for a few days now.”
“Off you go,” he agreed.
“Would it be ok if Brother Stenson came along?”
“Sure.”
So Brian and I went for a 90-minute drive on the back roads of Salamanca: long enough to listen to both sides of the tape and laugh our heads off. It did me a lot of good."

I was happy to be able to thank Brendan Grace, in person, for the many times he's made laugh, heartily, over the years - especially during those twenty years in the Legionaries of Christ, when I was so far removed from all things Irish. He is still as funny as ever. However, what most impressed me chatting with him was his easy friendliness and unassuming personality. At the end of the show I met him briefly. He said, "Jack, I want to thank you for the book. I'll read it and I will write to you." How many celebrities do you know who would actually remember a fan's name after delivering a two-hour show? What a great guy. Maybe you have to be Irish born to appreciate all the nuances of his humor - but try this clip for a taste of his extraordinary talent:

1 comment:

Unknown said...: Hi Jack,

That tape must have done the rounds. I remember listening to it as myself and another Irish Legionary drove somewhere. We had to pull in and park we were laughing so much. So Brian must have secreted it to Mexico. It's funny how we missed out on the simple things we took for granted at home. I think I was in Dublin Airport with Alex Anderson when we noticed a bus conductor giving out tickets. We even thought that was funny ..; May 29, 2010 at 4:19 PM

Post a Comment

The story that inspired "Driving Straight on Crooked Lines"

“A long time ago, a Monk set out on his travels accompanied by his assistant, a Brother. Night was falling when the Monk told the Brother to go on ahead to find lodging. The Brother searched the deserted landscape until he found a humble shack, in the middle of nowhere. A poor family lived in the hovel. The mother, father and children were dressed in rags. The Brother asked if he and the Monk could spend the night in their dwelling. “You are most welcome to spend the night,” said the father of the family. They prepared a simple meal consisting of fresh milk, cheese and cream for the Brother and the Monk. The Brother felt moved by their poverty and even more by their simple generosity.

When they finished eating, the Monk asked them how they managed to survive in such a poor place, so far away from the nearest neighbors and town. The wife looked to her husband to answer. In a resigned tone of voice he told them how they managed to survive. ‘We have one cow. We sell her milk to our neighbors who do not live too far away. We hold back enough for our needs and to make some cheese and cream-that is what we eat.”

The next morning, the Brother and the Monk said their good-byes and set out to continue their journey. After the Monk and the Brother had walked a few miles, the Monk turned to the Brother and said, “Go back and push the cow off the cliff!” “Father,” the Brother replied, “they live off the cow. Without her, they will have nothing.” The Monk repeated his order “go back and kill the cow.”

With a heavy heart, the Brother returned to the hovel. He worried about the future of the family because he knew they depended on the cow to survive. His vow of obedience bound him to follow the orders of the wise Monk. He pushed the cow off the cliff.

Years later, the young Brother became a Monk. One day he found himself on the same road where he found lodging so many years ago. Driven by a sense of remorse he decided to visit the family. He rounded the curve in the road and to his surprise, he saw a splendid mansion, surrounded by landscaped gardens, in the place where the hovel used to be. The new house exuded a sense of prosperity and happiness. The Monk knocked on the door.

A well-dressed man answered. The Monk asked, “what ever became of the family who used to live here? Did they sell the property to you?” The man looked surprised and said he and his family had always lived on the property. The Monk told him how he had stayed in a hovel on the same spot, with his master the old Monk. ‘What happened to the family that lived here?” he asked.

The man invited the Monk to stay with him as his guest. While they ate, the host explained how the family’s fortune changed. “You know Father, we used to have a cow. She kept us alive. We didn't own anything else. One day she fell down the cliff and died. To survive, we had to start doing other things, develop skills we did not even know we had. We were forced to come up with new ways of doing things. It was the best thing that ever happened to us! We are now much better off than before.”

This is a blog of the memoirs of an Irishman - from Dublin - who is a former member of the Legion of Christ.

"Driving Straight on Crooked Lines: How an Irishman found his heart and nearly lost his mind" is available on Amazon.com and other outlets.

I look back at the events in the Legion that made me who I am today. It's a fun read with a serious message: positive change can come from adversity.

When I first heard the story of the Monk and the cow, my job - a job I truly loved - was eliminated at the multinational corporation which employed me. My cow was taken away from me, through no fault of my own. The person who told me the story was suggesting I could find new peace, happiness and financial well-being in my adversity, just as the family did when the Monk stole the cow.

A few years later, revelations about the double life of Fr. Marcial Maciel the Founder of the Legionaries of Christ, killed another cow in my life and in the lives of tens of thousands of people.

There is a Spanish saying: "God writes straight on crooked lines". "My Legionary Life" is about trying to not get lost in the crooked lines of our own - or others - making. It is about discovering the straight lines that reveal the true purpose for which we exist.

It is the the story of the first Irish Legionary of Christ to set foot in Mexico. It begins in Dublin, Ireland, passes through Spain, then Mexico, Italy, the U.S.A and Gabon, in Central West Africa.

When I am not writing, I make a living as an international managment consultant.

The Monk who Stole the Cow

Friday, May 28, 2010